Chapter 51: The First Level of Innate Skill—Achieved

Chapter 51: The First Stage of Innate Skill, Achieved

On the Cliff of Reflection, Zheng Jian channeled a stream of inner energy into Lin Pingzhi. Under his careful guidance, Lin Pingzhi slowly regained consciousness. Opening his eyes and looking at Zheng Jian, Lin Pingzhi felt both ashamed and embarrassed.

Zheng Jian smiled. "Not bad at all. Under such intense pressure, you quickly learned the method of regulating your breath."

Startled yet delighted, Lin Pingzhi asked, "Senior Brother, was it you transmitting your voice to me just now?"

In fact, in the world of Smiling Proud Wanderer, inner strength wasn’t as common as most believed. It was essentially monopolized by the major sects, and ordinary martial artists could at best practice some basic external skills but rarely ever touched upon true inner techniques. Although Lin Pingzhi had inherited his family’s swordsmanship, he had no foundation in inner power. Now, receiving a genuine orthodox inner technique, how could he not be overjoyed?

"Don’t celebrate too soon," Zheng Jian replied, not denying it. Indeed, he had been secretly watching, and the moment Lin Pingzhi reached his limit, Zheng Jian used a secret voice transmission to impart the Huashan Inner Skill to him.

"The internal arts of Huashan are authentic Daoist methods and are not easy to master. Especially the inner techniques, which require slow and persistent cultivation over many years. There’s no shortcut for quick results. If you harbor desires for rapid advancement, you may make no progress at all—or worse, lose control and suffer severe consequences."

Hearing the essentials of inner cultivation for the first time, Lin Pingzhi turned pale with fright. "Senior Brother, rest assured, I shall remember your words and never pursue quick gains."

"Very well. I know you bear deep grievances, which is why I’m warning you. Swordsmanship can be mastered quickly through diligence or sudden insight, but inner strength is different—unless you acquire rare treasures of the world. Otherwise, don’t even think about shortcuts."

"Then, Senior Brother, how did you, at such a young age, attain such profound inner strength?" Lin Pingzhi’s eyes shone with curiosity.

Zheng Jian smiled faintly. "Didn’t I tell you? Unless you get hold of rare treasures, such as the legendary Vermilion Fruit, millennium ginseng, ten-thousand-year Polygonum, or the Shaolin Temple’s Great Rejuvenation Pill—such things can all greatly enhance one’s cultivation."

Lin Pingzhi was left speechless. He’d never even heard of such things; ginseng, perhaps, but not one that was a thousand years old.

"Senior Brother, you truly are blessed by fate!"

"Well, it’s all right, I suppose…"

After some banter, Zheng Jian lazily stretched and rose, heading into the cave. He tossed a sentence back to Lin Pingzhi, "I’ve taught you the martial arts. From here on, train on your own. Practice your swordsmanship during the day, and cultivate your inner strength from dawn to early morning. If you have any questions, write them down and ask me when I finish my seclusion—or you could ask the other senior brothers and sisters on the mountain."

...

"Now, the plot of the Smiling Proud Wanderer world has already been drastically changed by my actions. The advantage of foreknowledge is much diminished, and some events may even occur ahead of schedule..."

Zheng Jian murmured to himself. With Tian Boguang dispatched early to the afterlife, Yi Lin’s storyline had collapsed, and consequently, the Six Sages of Peach Valley hadn’t shown up.

Zuo Lengchan had practiced the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual—who knew if he would be unable to hold back from making his move early because of Zheng Jian’s actions.

Mount Wudang and the Shaolin Temple, those two giants, had always stayed behind the Five Mountain Sword Sects and watched as the latter battled the Sun Moon Holy Cult. As the leading lights of the righteous path, especially Master Fangzheng and Daoist Chongxu, their strength was by no means inferior to Zuo Lengchan.

As for the Plum Manor by West Lake—would Ren Woxing, imprisoned beneath the lake, still reemerge into the martial world?

All these were unknowns. With the butterfly effect in play, Zheng Jian could no longer predict how the story would unfold in this timeline.

The only thing he could do was to keep improving his own strength, so that he would be ready to face any change.

Sitting cross-legged on his meditation mat—which, by the way, he had brought himself, since this place had become his usual spot for seclusion and not preparing even a mat would have been too careless—he emptied his mind, letting his consciousness become clear and ethereal. Within, his Purple Mist inner energy, now mixed with innate true energy, continued to circulate, repeatedly washing over and widening his meridians.

"It looks like about half of the Purple Mist energy remains. This time, I won’t descend the mountain until I finish!"

With this resolve, he began to circulate his energy according to the route of the Innate Skill, continuing the transformation of Purple Mist energy.

...

In seclusion, time passed without notice.

In the blink of an eye, three months had gone by.

True to his word, Zheng Jian had not descended the mountain in all this time, training daily on the Cliff of Reflection.

This was the longest period of seclusion he had ever undertaken since starting martial arts, but the results were remarkable.

On this particular day, the inner energy within his body had reached a critical point. The true energy running through his meridians had lessened considerably, its color fading to a pale white.

Zheng Jian’s eyes were tightly shut, the purple aura on his face nearly imperceptible.

It was difficult to describe this state—if one had to force an analogy, it was like a certain file download from his previous life reaching 99.99%...

When the innate true energy completed one more circuit through his body, Zheng Jian suddenly shuddered. His robe billowed without wind, and his long hair danced freely behind him.

In a flash, his eyes opened wide. The purple hue on his face vanished entirely, replaced by a serene and natural expression.

"At last, the first stage of cultivation is complete—refining essence into energy, achieved!" A smile broke across Zheng Jian’s face.

Without a master’s direct guidance, relying only on bitter, solitary practice, he had finally completed the first level after several months.

"What the—what’s that smell? It’s awful!" Zheng Jian’s expression twisted in disgust as an unbearable stench assaulted his nose.

Looking down, he saw his skin coated in a layer of black, gelatinous filth, reeking as if rotten eggs and spoiled cabbage had been soaked overnight in old vinegar.

"Another round of purging and cleansing?" Startled, Zheng Jian dashed from the cave like the wind, heading straight down the mountain.

Outside the cave, Lin Pingzhi was practicing his swordplay. He caught sight of a blur passing by and, after a moment of dazed surprise, broke into a smile. "Senior Brother has left seclusion!"

But then, his nose caught a whiff of the stench. The smile vanished from his handsome face, replaced by a rapid grimace.

Down by the flowing mountain stream, Zheng Jian plunged straight in. Immediately, the crystal-clear water turned murky...

The happy little fish floated belly-up, motionless...

After a long while, Zheng Jian emerged from the water, feeling refreshed and clear-minded. Gazing at his smooth, jade-like hands and well-proportioned body, he couldn’t help but murmur, "Truly a flawless body... Tsk tsk, with a physique like this, no wonder countless young women covet it! Ah, a heartbreaker by nature, and well-deserved at that!"

...